Fondling Emmy

Yep, tis true! I had Emmy in my greasy grubby gnarly hands - fondling, rubbing, licking, kissing - ahhhhhh - it was orgasmic. No one was going to touch Emmy as long as I was around! My sweet beautiful curvaceous Emmy. Emmy was mine! My pet! My love! My ... Whap! (sound of reality bitch-slapping me) ... WHAP!! (sound of reality back-hand bitch-slapping me)

...

Once my vision "unblurred," I was able to pick myself up off the hard floor of insanity and plop my bruised butt back in my reality-check chair. Alas, Emmy was not mine ... was never mine ... Emmy's heart, body and soul belonged to another ... to ... to ... Kathy! That BITCH! WHORE! TRAMP! Let me tell you, many other obscenities flew through my mind, many I wanted to turret out to her as her pale pasty hands strangled Emmy. Emmy's voice screeched in my mind as Kathy sharpened her blood stained fingernails on Emmy.

...

Alas, I could only smile, nod and act genuinely happy for Kathy as she exclaimed with glee how Emmy became hers ... how she deserved Emmy ... how she'll sleep with Emmy every night ... wake up every morning kissing Emmy all over ... stare deep into Emmy's eyes over breakfast ... all as Emmy hovered a few inches over my head!

...

As she was leaving I could hear the Griffin on my shoulder whisper, "Don'tchu worry your little cotton socks, mate, fuck Emmy - Oscar will be all yours one day!"